Kismet
by turtledork
Summary: Takari. Sometimes, two people fall in love and never really stop. Part 4 of 7. Even if Hikari was no longer there, no longer with him, no longer beside him, he still feels her and the way she painted him into an entirely different color.
1. i beginnings

a/n: I don't own Digimon.

Digimon used to be a huge part of my life… when I was around eleven and I still love it until now. Takari will always be one of my favorite ships, and this is my tribute (sort of) to how much I loved and still love them. :) This story is basically a chronological collection of events in their love story (according to me) that is mostly from Takeru's point of view. This also doubles as a Takeru coming-of-age story.

My writing tends to be choppy and jump from one scene to another so I apologize in advance. Also, there are references to episode 13 of 02 (His Master's Voice) in a scene found in this chapter :)

* * *

**i. beginnings**

* * *

He first met her when he was nine, and the first thing he thought was how she looked nothing like her brother. Yamato said that was a good thing, and he thought so too.

He picked out a flower and gave it to her that one time. It turned out it was more of a weed than a flower. They both laughed.

It was one of their earliest memories.

Looking back, it still made his ears turn red.

* * *

When he was eleven, he technically lived 3 miles from where she lived (he counted). Some days, they would talk on the phone. Some days, they wouldn't. Some days, he'd pass by the train terminal and check how much the route from Shibuya to Odaiba will cost. He was slowly filling up a piggy back for the cause.

He had heard that they were moving back to Odaiba around halfway through the completion of his collection. He was glad but didn't really know what to do with all the money he had saved up.

He thought he ought to get her something nice.

She says he grew taller when he sees her again. He blushes a little, runs his hand through his blonde hair, and thinks about how he couldn't really see the top of her head when they were kids.

He sees it now, and he likes the view.

He wants to say that she looks nice, that the years have treated her well, but he's not really sure it's appropriate. Also, there's this guy a few feet behind her that looks like he just might be fuming. He smiles instead, saying it's been a while.

He's missed her, a lot. (but he doesn't know how to really say that)

* * *

It was that morning he fell out of bed with his sheets snaked around his legs that probably changed everything. It was 4 am and the sun was barely peeking out from the gray swirl of clouds outside his window, but he was wide awake, beads of sweat trailing down the sides of his face.

He had a dream and it unsettled him. And that's odd, considering he's never really bothered with his dreams before. Because up until that morning, his dreams only had fading white feathers, video game controllers, and a snippet of a family life lost to him.

He never really dreamt about hazel hair before, about the sound of a camera clicking constantly a few feet from him, or about faint pink lips brushing against his. He thinks for a bit, about how Hikari would take knowing about this newfound development. He stops, because even he doesn't know what to make of it.

He thinks he likes her. He's not really sure what to do about that.

* * *

They've got a good thing going, the two of them. He likes the way she settles beside him most of the time and the way he can talk to her about anything with ease.

He thinks that's not necessarily how all the great love stories are, but he's pretty sure that's how the honest ones go. He's kind of optimistic like that.

When all of a sudden she acts funny, he doesn't really know what to do.

He wonders if this is how it is when you like someone, like your heart is jumping every second and your eyes are permanently glued to her back. He's the only one who notices that there's something different about her - how her eyes seem blank, its usual sparkle gone.

And when he confronts her by the schoolyard and the harsh words slip out of his tongue (because he cares about her, and saw something wrong with the picture he was seeing), he's a little heartbroken she walks away.

He was more than a little scared when he heard she was missing, afraid more than anything that she was gone because of something he said.

Soon, he finds himself along the riverbed, screaming her name as Patamon and Gatomon follow the suit. He doesn't really mind that he looks a little crazy, losing his breath over what seems to be something intangible. He's hanging on to a little hope that maybe, just maybe, there was this invisible string that connected them, and that it'd help.

Hoping. He was good at that.

Most of the time it paid off, and thankfully, this was one of those times.

It was just one of those moments - those moments he thought that there had to be something between the two of them for sure. Because at that time he shouted out her name, from another place far far away, she called out his.

He couldn't help but think of destiny as he darted through the mysterious gate that appeared before him. And he couldn't help but think that he would save her, because she called out his name the exact same moment he called out hers, and that meant something. Something so special to him he couldn't bear lose her. Not ever.

He spots her almost immediately, and she's the lone bright light in that bleak monochrome world. His heart swells with something he's not too familiar with - something called, well, you know?

(He doesn't exactly save her, but he'd like to think he helped.)

On the road back home, she thanks him and he flashes her a smile.

"I care, you know?" he says. It sort of just slips out, because it was a long day and now, it's over.

She seems a little taken aback, but then she too flashes him a wide smile, "I care too, a lot."

He smiles to himself when he hears that, making his way through the almost empty Odaiba streets with her on his left. It's quiet, but it's a comfortable silence.

_This is nice_, he thinks to himself as he buried his hands in his pockets.

His blue eyes catch a glimpse of her windblown hazel hair, and suddenly, his mind refers to her as the girl he loves. He thinks that's just about right.

* * *

One day in the middle of summer, she drags him off to a convenience store to buy some cold drinks.

Ever meticulous, he slouches down in front of the refrigerator and tries to choose among the countless cold fruit juices standing on the bottom rack. She bends over him, deliberating on which brand of canned coffee to take, and the ends of her shirt touches the back of his neck, making his skin crawl.

At that particular moment, even with the cool refrigerator air blowing against his face, he couldn't help but feel warm.

He didn't really think that she noticed. Surely, there was nothing odd about him impulsively grabbing a can of prune juice (by mistake!). There was definitely nothing wrong about him shooting past her to run towards the counter. And definitely, there was nothing weird about his ears being an odd shade of pink.

When they were finally out the store, she suddenly bursts out laughing and he feels his ears go from that odd shade of pink to scarlet red. And as if the summer wasn't hot enough, now, he was scorching.

She's eyeing him funny but he doesn't really notice (and if he did, he'd see there was a mischievous glint in her eye).

Out of the blue, she kisses him.

It was quick, chaste, and the kind of kiss those little kindergarten sweethearts would give each other. It was so fleeting that it could have even been yet another side effect of the blazing sun (but it wasn't).

On that hot summer day, outside a 24 hour convenience store, with a plastic bag of canned juices and coffee in his grasp, something was beginning.

(and little did they know how it would end, or if it would.)

* * *

There's this phase he goes through where he keeps on writing her name on his notebook. He's kind of embarrassed to admit it but it might have included tiny hearts, his name to accompany hers, and some badly composed poems about his love for her.

He tells his brother about this and he laughs for two straight minutes before he gasps to catch his breath. Yamato tells him how much of an innocent lovestruck kid he still was. He denied it, but didn't really convince Yamato (and the cheesy poems didn't really help).

It was even worse when she tried to borrow his notes.

He swore she caught a glimpse of it. That knowing smirk accompanied by the batting of her eyelashes had to mean something.

* * *

They're officially going out a bit after the whole digital world mess is over. They tell everyone over some celebratory dinner in some noodle shop Davis likes so much.

She nudges him to just say it, and he fumbles with the words a little but manages to spill the beans anyway. They're both beaming.

They're met with a warm reception of hugs and wolf whistles (even by Davis! he's shocked by this, she's not), but most of them said it was expected. Patamon, who was comfortably settled on the top of his head, chuckled and was about to reveal some embarrassing secret of his before he cut the Digimon off.

They held hands almost the entire night, and while he still wasn't all that used to it, he thought it was pleasant. He didn't really like the feeling of people looking, but he did like holding her hand in his.

(He apologized to her via text message about his sweaty palms after the whole thing was over.

She called him that night, just to laugh at him.)

* * *

He thought it was kind of ludicrous when his mother suggested that he should start writing. _You've gone through a lot of things, have known a side of a story no one's ever known, and at the age of 14 has gotten more excitement in life than most men at 40. I'd write a book about that_, she said, albeit jokingly.

Still, ridiculous as the idea was, it didn't stop him from lying awake at night with only his desk lamp on as a light source, thinking maybe he should.

There were a lot of things to tell, and these moments were still fresh in his mind. After all, who else could be more honest about something than a boy at 14?

He starts writing more as an experiment than a goal, and surprisingly, the words come more quickly that he thought it would. It's actually rather refreshing to get some thoughts on paper. That is why on most of his free nights, he starts to sit in front of his computer screen as some words just spill out, and a fragment of his personal history is recorded.

Some things he would like to write about are harder. He's always been a little more reserved than the average guy and things that involved his emotions were a difficult ground to tackle. He doesn't know how to describe Angemon's death, the fact that he never really knew his father, or the anger he feels whenever there evil things try to tip the balance.

He's sure he would like to write a chapter about her one day (he's not ready yet - it'd probably turn out a like bad cheesy romance novel). It's probably one that would never be critically acclaimed for the lack of realism and over the top romantic luster. Probably.

But he'd probably like it anyway.

* * *

She gets him this book he's always wanted (in first edition too!) for their seventh month-sary. It totally beats his gift (a cd she mentioned she wanted in passing), and he has mixed feelings about it.

He wanted to be the one that wowed her.

For this said month-sary, they're eating in this new restaurant on the shopping district. It's never quiet in the shopping district (far from romantic) but he read that they had both good food and service. Thankfully, the restaurant had just the right romantic ambiance with its old-fashioned tunes and warm color palette. He immediately likes the place and he can tell Hikari does too, so he's kind of glad he actually leafed through that dating guide Yamato left lying around in his room.

"Do you want dessert?" he asks with his trademark boyish smile as he held up the menu of the restaurant pointing at some picture of pudding, just fancified.

"Do you even need to ask?" she says with a wink then points to another image of yet another fanciful sweet treat, "We totally have to share that one."

After he orders, he lays the menu down on their table, and then meets his eyes with hers. She goes a little pink because those blue eyes of his are staring at her quite intensely - but then again Takeru's gaze was often intense. Always honest, often serious. She's always liked that about him.

"Thanks for the book. It's perfect." he says. _You're perfect_, he wants to say.

"This is perfect." she whispers shyly, because it was an incredibly cheesy and embarrassing thing to say, boyfriend or not.

He catches it though, and wonders how she manages to say the right things all of the time.

Their dessert arrives after a short while, served on a fancy ceramic plate that kind of gleamed. The two of them just stare at it for a while, seemingly unable to touch it (because it looked too pretty to be eaten, and it sparkled!). The moment they do though, their forks meet with a resounding clang.

They both look up at this, and then start laughing.

In that new restaurant, in the middle of the bustling shopping district, during their seventh month-sary, with their forks bumping against another with a resounding clang, everything was perfect.

(It didn't even really matter that she totally upstaged him with her anniversary gift, not really.)

* * *

He's written a little about her, descriptions and snippets here and there, but he always clicks backspace in the end.

He doesn't think he does her justice.

(It's kind of sad because he's both her best friend and her boyfriend, but he's pretty sure he doesn't really understand her all that well. But he wants to, he really does.)

* * *

To be continued.


	2. ii intimacy

a/n: I don't own Digimon. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews in the first chapter! Truthfully, I'm not very confident with the flow of this story. I'm trying my hand at writing something meaningful and grounded but I think it's a still little out there because I lack the maturity and experience to write awesome like that =)) The story itself is very experimental and of course, exceedingly cheesy. Despite that, it's really fun to write :D

I actually have 6 (very incomplete!) chapters of this written out, so I'm confident that this will be finished one day. I'm aiming for April or May

Truthfully, I started writing this as a one-shot last June. It expanded to be more than ten thousand words so I decided to chop it up because it actually took up Takeru's life from age 9 to his late twenties and got terribly confusing. Now, I'm editing and adding a lot stuff here and there, but there's an ending planned and everything XD

Once again, thanks for the support and enjoy!

(Also, rating is bumped up to T from K+ because of some suggestive scenes and all that jazz)

* * *

**ii. intimacy**

* * *

Despite the stretch of years going out, there'll probably always be this shyness between them. That's why when he leads her to his room, both their cheeks are evidently more pink and an extra stutter is added to each of their sentences.

She sits down on his bed, fingering the army green sheets that never failed to remind her of him, while he bent down to open one of his drawers.

He feels kind of uneasy at the moment; his stomach is tying into a tight knot as he feels his fingers brush against the smooth feel of a1 paper. No one's ever read what he's written (not even his mom), but he kind of let it slip in one of their many conversations that it's his hobby, and one thing led to another. It was really difficult to say no to her sparkling eyes and the pout of her lips.

He hands it to her with a bump in his throat. She takes it silently, but he catches this smile on her face that kind of glittered with excitement.

He grows fascinated with his wallpaper during the time she takes to read this one excerpt about seven kids tumbling down into a universe unknown. He kind of liked that part, but he's not really sure what she makes of it.

"You're..." and with just that one syllable, he quickly snaps out of his wallpaper daze and turns to face her.

"... really really great at this." She finishes with her cheeks flushed and glowing with pride.

It takes a while to register what she had said, but when it finally does, he suddenly hugs her. They break apart moments later, and he's red as a beet.

She says she'd like to read more of what he's written and he awkwardly nods for yes.

* * *

He learns how she's really good with kids in one of those workshop things that their school sponsors. Students were paired up in teams of two and asked to teach a class of preschoolers how to make some handicrafts and help them with finger-painting.

He's really hopeless with art so in the middle of his demonstration, some children end up laughing at him. He chuckles along with them and discovers that while he found it really easy to get along with kids, he was kind of a bad instructor.

With that realization, he turns to Hikari who was helping some girl in the front row with her painting (a unicooorn!), and gives her a pleading look.

Hikari giggles to herself when she sees the look on his face. The two of them soon switch – him, taking the role of sidekick to her superhero. And to be honest, that's how she was.

It was like one of those movies with the inspiring teacher and class of misunderstood delinquents, except it was his girlfriend and this flock of 5 year olds with paint on their fingers. He can't seem to remember any other time Hikari looked as bright.

Just the sight of it astounded him.

"You were kind of amazing." he says, linking hands with her as they made their way out of the building the little workshop was held.

"Just _kind of_?" she chides lightly with an airy laugh.

"Very." he adds with a chuckle, "Those kids totally adored you. I bet they're going to cry next week when they see they have Daisuke and Miyako instead."

"This was totally fun, don't you think?" she says as she inches closer to him. He drapes his arms around her, and she rests her head on his broad shoulders.

"Totally fun to watch you, yes. But there was this little guy in the back who was giving me these really mean looks. I think he knows I'm your boyfriend! Either that or well, he was really offended with how I massacred the reputation of _handicraft_ a while ago." he says this with a wide grin.

She smiles back and the two of them fall into a comfortable silence, ambling through the Odaiba sidewalks while enjoying the familiarity of each other and everything that surrounded them.

"You know, I would like to do that – teach. In the future." she suddenly mentions with this soft introspective voice that he's a little surprised. He wonders if he's one of the first people she's told that to. The thought makes him kind of happy.

He smiles. It's nice, finding out new things about someone he knew for so long. Moments like these were special.

"It suits you."

* * *

"I think we should think about…"

"… where we're going to high school?"

"Yeah. Um… my mother suggested…"

"Odaiba High School?"

"Well, yes."

As if on cue, the two of them fell into fits of laughter. "That's…"

"… settled then."

* * *

In their high school entrance exams to Odaiba High, there was an essay question that went: _What is happiness for you?_

When he sees this, he looks up from his paper and scans the people around the room, as if assessing what sort of answer each of them would give. While doing so, he spots a familiar head of hazel hair half a dozen seats away. It was Hikari who probably had her nose thrust against her paper, inspecting her every answer with an almost terrifying scrutiny. He smiles at the sight of her and finally presses his pen against the questionnaire. With his trademark slim and neat handwriting, he wrote the following:

_Happiness is finding someone who can finish your sentences for you._

* * *

They spent a lot of time in her house the summer before high school began. They would turn on the air conditioner and settle themselves in the living room couch as they indulged themselves to movie marathons of various genres (art films for her and action/adventure for him). It was just the two of them (and Hikari's mother in the kitchen) away from the almost torturous heat of the sun.

One day while watching an art film Hikari was totally absorbed in (and Takeru pretended to watch but was actually asleep), Taichi came home swearing up a storm (and his mother immediately scolded him of course).

They didn't know about it then but apparently, he just broke up with his high school girlfriend of two years. Hikari shares with Takeru the details while setting up for a picnic lunch a few days later. The Yagami home wasn't as welcoming anymore with Taichi staking claim on the couch with the excuse of _heartbreak rights._

"Is Taichi feeling alright though?" he asks, stretching his legs out on the sheet below them and shifting his weight to his elbows, "No more profanity, at least?"

"He's taking it…" he doesn't really understand why she says it so softly when no one but he could possibly be listening, but she does so anyway. She continues with an almost strangled voice, "surprisingly well. Today, he told me it was no big deal – because she wasn't the one anyway, something about high school just being a phase and finding the one in college."

He looks at her with his clear blue eyes, noting the way she was clutching the cloth under them like an opportunity slipping away. He turns over and places his hand on the small of her back.

"It's okay. Nothing will change between us."

The summer breeze swept past them and carried his words of promise to her ears.

* * *

High school's a little different. It wasn't just the green jackets that went with their uniforms, or that entirely new building near the station, it was that they were older too.

He's grown a couple more inches and now, the top of her head is only as tall as the blade of his shoulders. His blonde hair is shorter (she says it kind of looks funny on him so he's going to try to grow it out again), while hers is longer. And nowadays, when he kisses her, it's much more than just the chaste lip-lock they used to share.

He guesses it's normal that as more calendar pages are torn, people grow up.

* * *

It was expected that high school meant he would no longer be the star of the basketball team. In fact, he was benched for most of freshman year even though he attended almost every practice and would always be meticulous in cleaning up the balls and supplies.

When the chance rolls in and his coach tells him to get into the court during the 7th game of the season, he's simply ecstatic. More so, when he releases the orange ball from his grasp by swinging his wrist while two feet up in the air. When the ball finds its rightful place and sinks into the hoop, it was simply just magic.

The game ends with Odaiba's colors raining down on the gym in the form of shiny paper. Despite the commotion, he found her almost instantly, looking at him with a proud smile on her face.

He doesn't know what made him so bold, but maybe it was just him thinking his luck was high that day and that he might as well push it. He runs to her and kisses her – not so innocently.

When they pull away breathless, he says with an almost overconfident conviction, "I love you."

She was red at that time, obviously embarrassed by his proclamation. She swats his sweaty shoulders with her hand and says without really meaning it, "Idiot."

That was skin meeting skin, and he felt an electricity he never felt before.

(Things were changing. He could feel the plates of the earth shaking under his feet.)

* * *

Upon entering sophomore year, Hikari starts dancing.

It catches him by surprise, and Hikari tells him she just began on impulse – trying to bring a little more adventure into her life, she said. (He thought that kind of funny, considering they saved the world once or twice.)

She joins this troupe that practices every Mondays and Thursdays (coincidentally, the days he has basketball training) in a little ballet studio near the main school building. They would dance till the sun set and he would always come by to pick her up and walk her home.

He would watch them perform if their practices were extended. They were not a particularly renowned group of dancers but he found them quite spectacular. Fluid motion and blurs of grace.

He wonders really, when it started that he was so mesmerized by the sway of her hips.

(He thinks he could write thousands of words on her dancing alone, but he still thinks it wouldn't do it justice.)

* * *

It's in the music classes no one really pays attention to that boys talk about being men. The room is split into many parts – baritones group with fellow baritones, altos with fellow altos, the boys and the girls on opposite ends of the room. Their teacher's piano-playing is just a faint backdrop to the idle and often senseless chatter of adolescence.

It's in that music room whose tall windows were always shut to contain the sound, that he joins heated and ignorant conversations of boys about skin against skin and other inappropriate things they really shouldn't have been saying out loud. The crudeness of their language never failed to make him feel uncomfortable and he always felt as though he was saying alien things whenever he had anything to add. But in a way, it was just them being honest and it felt rather liberating.

One time as Canon in D was playing, he turns away from the chatter, finding their topic of the day a little too tasteless. At the very moment he leans back, he catches her eyes on his. He suddenly feels his face turn red.

He was caught between a feeling of shame, guilt, and embarrassment; mostly because some time between leaving that particularly lewd discussion and their eyes meeting simultaneously, he wondered what it would be like to make love to her.

(It takes him nearly half a year before he manages to voice that out and when he does, he feels a strong urge to bang his head on something incredibly hard.

First of all, he lacked tact. Saying something like that over milkshakes was just not smart. But he would have to blame the way her pink _pink_lips teased him as she pursed them together for his stupidity.

To his surprise, she just takes his hand, idly laid down on the table, and meets her eyes with his…

"If it's Takeru…" she whispers with a hint of fear and reluctance in her voice, and he could distinctly feel the tremble of her hand over his as she held it tighter.)

* * *

_"I love you, Hikari."_

_"I love you too, Takeru."_

They first make love the night he turns seventeen.

It's probably the most special night of his life.

He won't forget it - every fold of his sheets, his fingers against her skin, and the way they perfectly fit. What's even more unforgettable was waking up with her body cradled against his chest, kissing her forehead as they stirred, and her perfect silhouette against the faint sunlight of the breaking dawn.

He loves this girl. He's probably loved her since that time when they were twelve and he thought he almost lost her, that time they called out each other's names at the same time, that time they managed to find each other even though they were literally worlds apart.

It felt wonderful to be so blessed.

* * *

The night after, lying awake on his bed that still smelled of her but no longer had her, he realized that moments come and go.

He wonders if one day, he and Hikari would eventually part; he didn't like thinking about it but he knew it was something to consider. There was a small part of him that said it was likely.

(He's more of a grown-up now, but to be perfectly honest, he really liked being a kid.)

* * *

To be continued.

* * *

** Hikari _dancing_ is something inspired by lucia marin's Honestly series – Takari fanfiction everyone has to read at least once in their lives. I swear! It's in my favorite stories page if you're interested XD

Please review! They are very much appreciated :D


	3. iii clean breaks

a/n: I still don't own Digimon. I had an original draft for this chapter, but I felt that it didn't do them justice so I completely reworked it. I'm now a bit worried it won't fit in with what I have in store, but I think it's better like this now XD. I feel like this packs more of a punch; very emotional stuff going on in here. However, I apologize in advance for the intense tense-shifting (I'm working on that DX) and the melodrama that is this chapter T.T

Ugh. This was so heartbreaking to write ;A; but I'm actually a bit proud at how this came out XD

Thank you for all those who have read and left a review to this fic of mine :) I really really appreciate the time you take to read my rambling XD

* * *

**iii. clean breaks**

**

* * *

**

It's easy to make promises, but harder to keep them.

(There's a story behind this.)

When you've been so intimate with someone, it's difficult to tell where you end and she begins. This is a common cliché often read in books but he thinks it's true, because he feels it. He feels it whenever he and Hikari would laugh at nothing together, and whenever their eyes would meet and linger on one another, even by coincidence.

There was a link, and he thought it was unbreakable.

* * *

"You're extremely lucky." Daisuke says one warm school day. The sun was sweltering and the two of them were idling around during one rare free period. Both of them had two top buttons popped open from their shirts in an attempt to wage war against the weather.

Resting his chin on his palm, he urges his friend to continue on with a faint curiosity, "How so?"

"Hikari. She's practically perfect." Daisuke admits, and Takeru couldn't help but note his friend's breathless and obviously infatuated delivery. He knew that feelings lingered, and understood Daisuke well enough not to pry. After all, they both knew that this story very well could have been the other way around; it was beneath them to still fight about it.

"Shut up." He chuckles, taking the statement lightly and tossing his rubber eraser towards his friend. Daisuke chuckles back and retaliates by crunching notebook paper in his fist and aiming it at Takeru's face. That was the end of that conversation, and he didn't ponder on it again until a little later while alone on the bus stop (Hikari had to run some errands for the student council).

It wasn't that there wasn't any truth to it.

The Hikari today (a well-regarded senior) was even more outstanding than the Hikari from a year ago. It was like she finally broke free from her introverted shell and from the large shadow Taichi unintentionally cast over her (that feat alone ensured that she was one hell of a person). She was now the brilliant Hikari Yagami - Student Council vice president, an excellent dancer, an excellent student, a wonderful girlfriend, the best best friend, and something of a perfect person.

He didn't like thinking about it though. He wasn't really sure how he felt about it.

(After all, he's still the same old Takeru Takaishi.)

* * *

Whenever he looks at her these days, he's kind of left breathless. If there's an apt way to describe her, it would probably be that she was becoming a woman. And yeah, that must sound incredibly weird coming from him, but he can't help but make the comparison.

It was similar to the feeling of watching someone grow up right in front of your eyes.

The Hikari he once knew was easily scared, even though she tried to hide it. She was scared of ghosts, spiders, and injection needles; and he would always be there to take care of her and protect her. But now, Hikari wasn't scared anymore. Hikari was not unsure of herself nor did she need him to hold her hand to save her from the frightening clowns.

She was strong now, and she could do things on her own. And more often than not, it was she who took his hand and led him to places he never thought of entering, things he never thought doing. And she's so driven, having planned every aspect of her life from this moment to forever. She knows what to do with her life, and the meaning behind her goals.

Her eyes are brighter, always looking towards the future with anticipation. (That look of hers scares him, because he wants to stay in the now, stay with her, their personal park bench and the welcoming air of the high school gym during a home game.)

"Takeru, hurry up! We don't want to be late!" She snatches his hand from his side and dashes from where they were once walking leisurely. It was 7:15 in the morning and they were fifteen minutes away from being late to a school that was only five blocks away.

He jogs to follow her, but is not quite sure of why they were running. As she shot across the streets while dragging him along, he couldn't help but think that he's been watching her back a lot lately. And yes, the nape of her neck was extraordinarily beautiful, but since when was the last time they just talked about nothing? Since when did it all become a marathon?

"Slow down a bit. There's no need to rush." He says, and a part of him knows it wasn't just about that morning and the absent threat of being tardy. He feels sluggish, and he doesn't feel like running with her because he doesn't have a particular place he wants to go.

_Since when did his girlfriend become this perfect person_? (She probably always was - but it's just now that he sees he isn't.)

He feels like he needs to catch up to her.

* * *

The day he finds out that the Odaiba High School basketball team didn't make the regionals was the same day Hikari received notice that she got accepted into a summer internship program in an esteemed university.

He takes her to celebrate despite her protests that it was insensitive to him, especially after receiving such dreadful news.

"It's okay. We're here to celebrate **you**; I can brood tomorrow, but we can never have this day again." He insisted as he pushed her through the entrance of their favorite coffee shop. "It's my treat, so don't even think of footing the bill."

"Takeru, why are you so amazing?" Hikari said wistfully, giggling softly while letting Takeru twirl her on her feet. Chuckling softly, he showed her his trademark smile and a wink. Reassured, she finally allowed herself to be seated on what they claimed as their personal booth while Takeru made his way towards the barista for their orders.

But the truth was that his heart was more than a little crumpled that day. His mind was on the early mornings and late afternoons he spent on the courts, and the fact that his final season of basketball in high school was cut short. It was almost painful to hear Hikari's elaborate future plans in excruciating detail – lesson plans, meeting esteemed professors and changing students' lives.

It was the first time he felt unbearably uncomfortable listening to Hikari talk. He was unused to the feeling, and he decided that he didn't quite like it. (He didn't know that this was just the beginning of more to come.)

That night, as he drove Hikari home to her apartment building and she was lulled into slumber by the gentle ups and downs of the car, he couldn't help but whisper…

"Don't leave me behind, okay?"

She didn't hear him that night. Maybe if she did, everything would change.

* * *

"What are you doing, Takeru?" Patamon asked as the little guy yawned, his mouth forming a large "O" shape.

"Writing. You should go to sleep; I don't think I'll be done until a lot later." He replied, not once taking his eyes off the screen.

"Okay. That's good, Takeru. Writing is good." Patamon said, drowsiness heavy in his voice, while rubbing his eyes with his paws. "Did something interesting happen tonight with Hikari? Is that why you're so intent on writing?"

There was a pregnant pause and Takeru's fingers stopped their relentless barrage on the keyboard. He didn't know how to tell Patamon that the reason he was writing was because he wanted to do something – something substantial enough that it would make him feel like he's achieved something - feel like he knows what he's doing with his life.

Patamon let out another yawn before murmuring with his words trailing into the silence of the night, "Don't sleep too late, Takeru. If you already have the words to say, they will still be there tomorrow…"

Takeru looked back at his cabinet (Patamon dubbed its surface his castle) and watched as his Digimon drifted off into a peaceful sleep. He returned to the screen and read the lines he managed to give life to that night. It was a mess of words, endlessly circling around one another with no sign of structure or a point to get to. He sighed in defeat, pressing down on the backspace button until the page was a pristine white and hauntingly empty once again.

He clenched his fists, because he knew he didn't have the words. But how desperately did he want them. Need them.

* * *

Nearing the end of senior year, Takeru and Hikari fought a lot more. And it felt kind of different from those trifle arguments like 'chicken or the egg', 'coffee or juice', and 'Taichi or Yamato'. These were different, and while there were never really scathing comments thrown (that was too uncharacteristic of them), it clearly displayed the growing distance between them.

It's probably due to the fact that the colleges on the top of their lists were significantly different.

It wasn't that they never really talked about it. It was just that their paths were kind of set (hers more than his).

* * *

"_You're really going there then, Takeru?"_

"_Yeah. I think so. It's best suited for me; my mom thinks so too."_

"_Oh." … " That's a lot of train-stops between us."_

"_I know."_

He vaguely remembers the words he promised her the summer before high school began.

_It's okay. Nothing will change between us._

During that moment on that day on that space in time, he thought that nothing could ever stop him from keeping that promise. Now, he's not quite sure anymore. Because he's halfway sure that things have changed already, but he's not really sure what he did or didn't do.

* * *

Their graduation day comes and thankfully, the wind is chilly enough for them to feel comfortable underneath the cover of their thick togas. His father and brother come to his high school in badly-pressed suits, and his mother scolds the two for being pigs while fighting tears from escaping her eyes. She was so proud to see her youngest son become more of a man and step towards a new frontier.

Their families celebrate together and there is warmth and familiarity all around. Yamato's brought good wine with him, along with a new girl friend that nobody in the room knew. Taichi's brought beer, a smile, and a tiny gift-wrapped package meant for his little sister.

They miraculously manage to find time alone that night despite the wild celebrations of their families. They kiss and they touch and make each other a little breathless, but when Takeru looks into Hikari's eyes, he realizes that the eyes that once let him enter an endlessly fascinating mind were no longer the same.

He couldn't read her mind anymore. He didn't understand the thoughts in her head or the meaning behind her soft sighing against his skin.

That was the moment that he knew it as a fact – they were different now.

* * *

It doesn't really set in that it's their last summer together in Odaiba before they go to separate prefectures, until it's nearly the end.

He hasn't seen her for most of the summer. She attended her fancy university internship while he busied himself with enjoying his last summer before college and packing boxes to leave home for a dormitory near his choice university. The weekly phone calls they shared (one from her and one from him) were often just wasted chatting away on trivial things, as if deliberately avoiding the more glaring issue staring them at the face.

They weren't even apart yet, and it already felt that way. What's even more surprising is that he's doing nothing to stop their seemingly inevitable fallout.

He hates the part of him that tells him it might actually be a relief.

* * *

The rich and soulful sound of the harmonica filled the air as Yamato (who just arrived to help him with the moving out and the moving in) slid the instrument left and right between his lips.

"I haven't heard you play that in a while." He told his brother as he bent down to grab some of his favorite books from the lowest level of his bookshelf. "I forgot how good you were at it."

"Just felt like it." Yamato admitted after he finished the song. He slid his harmonica into his pants pocket before taking the books from Takeru's hands and tossing it into the box labeled 'Takeru's Books', "How's summer been treating you, little bro? What have you been up to?"

"Shooting hoops with Daisuke, Iori and Ken, I guess. Nothing earth-shattering." Takeru shrugged as he scanned his shelves for more books he couldn't bear to leave behind.

"Oh, cool." Yamato said, idly playing around with some of Takeru's displayed basketball memorabilia. He seemed to think a bit before continuing on, "And the girlfriend? How is she?"

"The girlfriend?" Takeru repeated as if trying to avoid answering the unavoidable question, "Hikari's great; she seems to really enjoy the weather in Tokyo. And she says it's really inspiring where she's at. Makes her want to work harder and become better, she said."

Yamato was looking at him with a look he didn't quite understand. All that he knew was that his brother's ice blue eyes on him felt like they could read every thought in his mind. "Are you guys really okay with being so far away? College is a long time. You know we're all rooting for the two of you the most."

Takeru looked back at his brother, and Yamato could read the vulnerability and confusion in his little brother's eyes. It almost seemed like hours before Takeru, with his voice softly breaking, finally said, "I_don't_ know. I _don't_ want her to go and I _don't_ want to go. I just want _everything_ to be _the way it was_."

"Fight for her, Takeru." Yamato urged him. And from his brother's words, Takeru could easily hear the underlying heartbreak and regrets. "I can see the way you love her. So fight for her, or you may end up regretting it one day."

"I…" Takeru couldn't find the words to continue, and just looked down, his gaze locked on the floor.

He didn't really know why he was so resigned to this, why he didn't try to fight it. It wasn't as if he didn't love her anymore - because, he didn't really see that happening. He will always love her, as a friend, as a lover - nothing was ever going to change that.

But, he guesses, this just seemed so much bigger than him.

(In the back of his mind, he hates himself for giving up before the fight even began.)

* * *

He knows the exact date Hikari came back from Tokyo, but he doesn't come to meet her until the day after.

He's almost taken aback when he first sees her again. Only six weeks have passed since she left, but she looks so different. She carries herself differently, and now, more than ever, he can see the air around her that declared her unattainable.

"I missed you!" she exclaims as the two of them hug. He's only left terrified when he realizes how every muscle in his body tightened and how he felt like he wanted to run from her and never come back.

(He knows that she noticed how he stiffened in her embrace. He just doesn't know what to tell her, really. So he doesn't say a thing.)

* * *

It was the night before they left Odaiba.

They were walking hand in hand along the sidewalks, something they did together to clear their heads and enjoy each other's company. It was different that night though. He guesses he should've taken the starless sky as a hint.

"After tonight, we won't be together anymore." She said this in an almost inaudible tone, but the night was still, and it still reached his ears. It was a sentence, but it meant more than that.

"Yeah." he said quietly, as he squeezed her hand in his grasp - kind of like holding on, but not really.

"I'm sorry." She said.

"I'm sorry too." He replied, and was about to add something but quickly stopped. He bit his bottom lip instead, feeling his heart beat haphazardly against his chest.

They looked at each other's eyes at that moment, and he found that he could understand the meaning of the look in her eyes again, even if it were only for this one last time.

_What changed?_

He felt his eyes well up with tears and watched as her eyes did the same. _I don't know. I'm so sorry._ He told her in their secret language without words.

He leaned in closer, their foreheads meeting skin on skin, and it was one of those many moments that his breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat when near her. He placed a chaste kiss on top of her lips, and he hugged her so tightly he could have broken her.

"_I guess we can't carry on like this anymore."_

It was their own sort of goodbye.

He thinks it was probably inevitable. He was someone who sought to take things from his past, while she was someone who always looked towards the future.

(It sort of made sense, but it didn't really make it any better.)

_Hikari, I still love you but I'm too afraid to fight for you. Because you shine so brightly and I'm just me. And in every moment I spend with you, I'm more and more convinced you'll start hating me. Because I will always remain mediocre, and you will continue shining. Because you're going to leave me behind someday no matter what._

The thoughts were running through his mind like a wildfire but he couldn't bring himself to say anything anymore.

As he shut his eyes to let the tears fall freely, he couldn't help but think that he could hear the faraway sound of a promise breaking.

* * *

To be continued.

* * *

Some lyrics (took out the first two stanzas):

_I can't explain  
I need to be... alone_

_I know the timing isn't great  
But these things you just can't plan  
I just need a little time so I can find myself again_

_'Cause I get buried underneath  
All the things they think you are  
And I'm too tired to pretend  
It doesn't hurt to be left out_

_I had a pocket full of dreams  
But I gave them all to you  
Now I think I want 'em back  
So can you tell me if I'm crazy or confused?_

_Don't ever change  
The way you are  
I've never loved anyone more..._

The beautiful song above, **The Conversation by Motion City Soundtrack**, really speaks volumes about how Takeru felt in this chapter ;A; I was really amazed when my brother introduced me to this band while I was in the middle of working on this. (And yes, after that, I was just listening to Motion City Soundtrack until I finished writing the entire chapter.)

Please review! They are very much appreciated :D


	4. iv aftershocks

a/n: I still don't own Digimon. I'm sorry that this took forever to complete. I thought that I'd have more time to write during my summer break but it turns out summer often entices you to do other things and makes your laziness increase exponentially. D: Some of the happenings in this chapter may be surreal (I still haven't stepped into college yet, though I will be a few weeks from now!) so events may idealized and stuff Xd Very very sorry! I hope you enjoy this anyway! Once again, I'm sorry for the delay.

Also, I'm very much considering extending this to 8 parts because 7 might make latter parts a bit too rushed, but I'm not too sure yet so I'll try to pull it off in 7 for now 8D.

Thank you for everyone who have read this, enjoyed this, and most of all, left a review. I'm beyond thankful for your feedback :')

* * *

Do you know that feeling you get when you tear yourself away from something only to find out, for the first time, that you're not the same person anymore?

It's how he feels.

Even if Hikari was no longer there, no longer with him, no longer beside him, he still feels her and the way she painted him into an entirely different color.

(He doesn't even know who he is without her.)

* * *

iv. aftershocks

* * *

It's not the act of pulling out the band-aid, but the pain that comes afterwards that hurts.

During the first few months of college, his pillow was often damp and the buttons of his answering machine were worn from constant checking. But things weren't the same anymore. And it wasn't that he didn't expect things to be different, it was that he couldn't have expected things to be SO different. There were none of the senseless but fun conversations, none of the hellos in the morning and goodnights in the evening, and just none of her. She used to be such a staple in his life, and now it felt as though he was a building whose foundations crumbled. (And really, he didn't know what to do with the debris.)

During those times he felt bad enough that he could cry, Patamon would urge him to steal his roommate's ice cream. They'd take it and share, then face the fury of his roommate the following day.

* * *

The first letter caught him by surprise.

He had just come back from a morning jog around the campus when he asked for his mail by the counter, confused when it was a perfumed pink envelope that greeted him. He turned the envelope around to determine its sender's identity and was taken aback to read her name in tiny print letters along with her new address.

He doesn't remember exactly what was written on that letter anymore. All that he knew was that it was painfully civil and brief, and that reading each and every word brought him back to that night in Odaiba where a love he thought was endless ended.

But he read that letter countless times, as if he were looking for a hidden message beneath the lines of text. He kept on telling himself it was so he wouldn't forget Hikari and all the things they've shared. (But memories are memories, and after remembering, his heart only aches for the time that was once there.)

The task of sending a response always took him a long time.

He once believed that correspondence through letters was something incredibly romantic. Everything involved in the process of its creation could tell a thousand things about its sender. Handwriting, Hikari's in particular, reflected her penchant for neatness and reminded him of her pleasantness. The smell of her stationary provided him a vivid picture of her dormitory that smelled like old books and flowers. And, the way the papers were folded into the envelope made him think of Hikari's fingertips and whether she was eager or reluctant to send the letter out. But its contents – the most important thing – never told him anything. They always just seemed like accounts from a friend to another, updating him on how lessons were challenging and people were helpful.

It wasn't necessarily that they were impersonal. It's just that they were almost too painfully platonic that he never knew what to write back.

It takes him a while before he decides it's best to follow her example. They were clearly broken up after all, and he needed her in his life even if it were as a friend.

(Once you teach yourself how to lie, it gets easier.)

They send each other letters once a month.

And sometime between the fourth letter and the sixth, he teaches himself not to care as much. After all, it was college and he needed to do more than hang onto things he broke himself.

* * *

There's this sort of freedom in college that's different from anything he's ever felt in high school. It could be the fact that some of his classes take place in these large packed auditoriums, the fact that no one minds you when you don't want to be minded, or the fact that he could just duck out of a boring lecture to tinker with his laptop in the cafeteria.

It takes him a few months to finally decide that he likes it.

The independence was intimidating, but it was also an excellent opportunity. He may have been broken, but he couldn't find a better place to rebuild himself. And it's with this freedom to be anyone that he can build himself to be a writer. Maturity comes with experience after all.

Classes are difficult but he's learning more that he did in high school. He doesn't know if he'll be using much of this knowledge in the future though; it seems a little too complicated (and all he really wants is to lead a life without complications).

He's met people too, different people. He likes listening to their stories, things vastly different from how it was in Odaiba. Stories about traveling, cocktails and parties, and fathers and mothers.

When they ask, he tells them his. They never believe it when he says he's saved the world before. No one ever does.

* * *

There are also women in college. Of course there are.

(By this time, Hikari was just an envelope a month, neat handwriting on yellow paper, and a memory he's tucked in a box in his head.)

There's Olivia who he met in Classic Studies; she's half-Caucasian and he always thought she was kind of pretty. They got paired up for a project and he thought of how they liked all the same books. Then the day after their presentation, she kind of wove her hand in his, and that was that. It was very pleasant until they broke up over something stupid in sophomore year. Something about him never being open enough. (But he's always been reserved; didn't she know that?)

There's also Mika, who was cute and confessed to him on the empty bleachers after a university game. He thought she was kind of cute, and he didn't really see a point in breaking her heart. He broke up with her a few months later when he sees he thinks of her as a sister and notices her eyes glaze over when one of his underclassmen pass by.

And then there was Dylan, who he met at the end of junior year and was attracted to because she was so vibrant - like a firecracker. It's the first time he actually asked someone to go out with him, because it had always been a silent understanding or a confession he needed to answer until then. They were vastly different people, but it worked to an extent. It's the first time he feels as though he's falling in love again.

They teach each other things, like the words of great men (something he grew to have a fixation with) and the speeds to which runners and automobiles have reached to break records (something she was far too obsessed with, really). And it was great and definitely more grown-up than any other relationship he'd ever been in.

Nearing the end of senior year, she breaks up with him because of their differences. There's also comment thrown on how he always seems distracted. (But he almost fell in love with her, and he thinks that shouldn't have mattered.)

After that, he decides to slow down. He was twenty-two and thinking about it, it was probably ridiculous to have had on average, a different girlfriend a year. There was also the fact that every person he's been with has called him detached in some way, and admittedly, there was some truth to it.

(He feels a little guilty for going into relationships with only half his heart, but he doesn't really remember where he placed the other half.

He reckons it's best to not rush in relationships anymore.)

* * *

The night was quiet and the stars were twinkling. The breeze was pleasant and the grass beneath him tickled his neck. It was one of those calm moments where time could just stop and he'd have nothing to complain about.

"_I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day. Vincent Van Gogh_." He says out of whim, his English carrying a heavy Asian accent.

A low chuckle erupts from beside him. His brother, Yamato, sits on the ground with a laidback smile, looking at him with amusement. "Wow. Did you learn that in college?"

"Internet." He admits, joining Yamato in his laughter. He shifts his weight a little to face his brother, "It's nice to see you. It's been a while, especially since you skipped out on Christmas."

"Space waits for no one." Yamato says in an ominous voice, following it with a wink that negated any seriousness from the statement. A smile spreads across his face, "You're nearly a graduate, squirt. Would you say the tuition money was worth it?"

"I had a good run here, I think. Nothing to complain about." Takeru admits with his eyes fixed on the brilliant night sky and his fingers playing with the tips of grass blades. "But in a way, I thought I'd have more things figured out by now – like I'd be… I dunno, self-actualized after the experience. But I don't think I'm that much more a whole person now than I was before. A lot of the questions I had then are still unanswered."

"And they'll remain that way, squirt. Four years is nothing in the encompassing cosmic plan of the universe. In fact, I'd say your life is just beginning." Yamato ruffles Takeru's unruly blonde hair playfully before adding, "But who wants to talk about that? Tell me what happened with Dylan, Takeru. I feel like I'm out of the loop."

"Your astronaut jokes are getting old." Takeru rolls his eyes as he swats his brother's hand out of his hair. He then sighs, "I'm not really sure what happened with Dylan. I thought everything was going fine; apparently, it wasn't."

"Women." Yamato sighs and Takeru can't help but snicker. His brother's statement was so hilariously ironic because Yamato was probably the most notorious womanizer he knew. Yamato punches him playfully then says, "Can't live with them. Can't live without them."

"Are you ever settling down?" Takeru asks amidst laughter, half-seriously half-jokingly.

"I dunno. If I meet the right person, I guess. If the stars align, and all." Yamato answers, and Takeru can't help but think that's he's somehow avoiding the question.

"What if the stars align, but you pass the moment by?"

Yamato looks at him, and Takeru can't tell if the look in his brother's eyes spelled empathy or confusion. It takes a moment for Yamato to come up with an answer…

"If you really want it, do everything you can to make it align again. Stars may be old photographs but we're not stars, we're people. And we have feet."

Takeru's eyes met Yamato's and they shared a moment of silence before they began laughing at their own silliness.

* * *

There's a letter that comes a few days before his graduation. His room was a mess of boxes and littered candy wrappers (Patamon's fault – he just indulged in what his little friend shared with him), and he was bathing in his own sweat.

The envelope was pink and perfumed as always. And really, it was no different from the letters he got from Hikari in the past. There was the obligatory 'CONGRATULATIONS' written in big bold letters and a little bit on how she was so proud of him and how she always believed in him. She then proceeded to tell him of her own graduation, which he congratulated her for in a letter he had sent a few weeks ago. And then at the end, scribbled in an uncharacteristically messy way, were the words: _I wish you had been here._

And there was nothing earth-shattering about that statement. In fact, it was a common cliche. But it struck him anyway.

He sunk onto his dormitory floor, overwhelmed by a sentence that probably meant nothing and at the same time, could possibly mean everything. And he sat there, convincing himself that if he had stopped her that night many years ago, things would have turned out differently. _That he could have been there_.

(And the sad part was that he knew it wouldn't have changed a thing.)

* * *

After graduation, he goes back home and decides to bunk with Yamato until he finds himself a job and enough money to get his own place. His brother doesn't mind, enjoying his company if not in the company of beautiful women and space ships.

He likes being back in Odaiba. For the four years he's been gone, not much has really changed. His old high school stands at the same spot he's always known, the candy shops and bookstores he frequented were all still there, and every turn and curve of the sidewalks were still the same ones etched in his memory.

He's met with a couple of friends who never really left - Daisuke, who now owned his own ramen stall, and Miyako and Ken, a young married couple expecting their firstborn. They were different from what he remembered, and at the same time, very much the same. Ironically, they actually said the same thing about him. Nevertheless, it was wonderful to be able to spend time with them once again and see that some things never really change.

When not catching up with old friends, looking for a job a lit major can have or apartment hunting, he settles down on Yamato's couch and types away on his laptop. He was busy in college - all the readings, the people, the women. Now, it seems like he has a lot of free time on his hands.

It was a pretty scary thought to him a few years ago, but he's slowly getting used to this whole 'grown-up' thing. At least, he's getting there. Because it's not like he's stopped being a kid entirely.

* * *

Taichi stops by Yamato's place sometimes. They still hang out after all this time, but he guesses some friendships never end. He's heard that Taichi was studying law - it wasn't what he thought Taichi would be taking, but it was oddly fitting. He often jokes how cool it would be if Taichi ended up becoming Prime Minister. He certainly was bossy enough!

(Once, he heard Taichi talking to Yamato from the living room. He said something about Hikari, and the word boyfriend was mixed in the sentence.

Takeru tried to ignore it, but his heart kind of throbbed.)

* * *

To be continued.

* * *

a/n: I'm very excited for what will happen in the next chapter. I've got most of it written out (but I tend to rewrite a lot of it DX!) so I think it will come out a lot faster than this one took. Hur hur. I know Yamato being an astronaut sound silly and the jokes are very corny, but I couldn't help it. Hehehe. Also, some of the things I've referenced to in this fic are obviously not mine and the idea of stars being old photographs? Taken from Alan Moore's Watchmen XD which is an incredibly graphic novel!

Thank you for reading this :D Please review if you can! They are very much appreciated.


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